Personal Experience

03/08/2014

(From a journal I wrote on paper about 8 months ago on an issue I was dealing with at the time. In some ways, analogous to how I'm feeling right now, but not in every way. Felt it was worth sharing, nonetheless.)

What I really need is to realize that my problem may be with myself. I think there's a difference between self-preservation and feeling sorry for oneself, but I don't know what it is.

I'm MAD at him. I'm disappointed with myself. I'm frustrated with him. I'm confused about the direction I should take. I haven't written enough about this because I'm afraid to blog about it. But I don't realize how much good writing does for me to clarify my thoguhts.

I'm finally putting my thoughts on paper and I feel more clarity than I've had in a very long time.

But for a variety of reasons, I can't ever become disciplined enough to write. Putting pen to paper on a journal every single day is the hardest thing for me to do. And yet, when I write, the orchestra stops playing in my head.

It's quiet. And in the quiet...

...in the quiet...

I'm lost. Suddenly the only thing left is me and my own thoughts. And I'm alone. Scared. Directionless. But proud that I'm standing up for myself.

I'm thinking myself in circles. I can be strong, brave, powerful, and confident. I can be the Fox I want to be. I NEED to be comfortable with myself.

How do I get there?

Peel the layers off more frequently.

Write. Feel. Drown out the orchestra.

Look. This/these issues you live with SHOULDN'T be shared publically. They're his issues. The reason I'm struggling is because I can't open up to anyone. That's where I draw my strength from most of the time. The only thing left to do is open up to myself, which doesn't fill me with power or strength.

I need to have the courage to face myself and my humanity. Once I do that, they will also feel the courage and power.

Others can draw strength from me, just as I draw strength from others.

If I can face myself, he can as well.

Use the quiet to mourn. It's okay to mourn. You haven't done that all that much yet.

12/06/2013

There's a lot of different types of sexualities across many spectrums. Personally, I've never really considered myself to be anything other than gay. At least not officially. Let me explain.

Women don't particularly turn me off, they just don't turn me on. I've never been "afraid" of vagina per se, and ladyparts and boobs haven't been a boner killer for me in my life. They just don't turn me on or do anything to me that way either. However, I've always enjoyed bisexual porn. There's something about two men screwing around with each other AND a woman that's always turned me on. Hell, my partner is bisexual. He and I toss around the idea of having a threeway with a woman occasionally. The problem always seems to be finding a couple where the guy is bisexual and the woman actually wants to see that. It's a really tough combination to find in a couple!

I've posted ads to Craigslist before looking for something similar, and haven't ever gotten a response. Here's the ad I posted last week:

"GL Bicurious Guy seeking couple - m4mw - 29 (Uptown)

29 years old, and 145 lbs slim/athletic. Looking for a couple no older than 40s for a good roll in the hay.

Here's the deal. Most of my sexual experiences have been with men. Vers top here. I'm now looking to get together with a couple so I can explore sexuality with a woman. I think it'd be pretty hot to have a man there as well to teach me how to "get it done" as it were. So you see, I'm bi curious, but probably backwards as I've never been with a woman.

Just a real, horny, mostly masculine guy looking for a good, no strings attached, fun, horny time. Want to do things with both of you. Clean and safe only here, ddf, non smoker and only a light/occasional drinker. Looking to do this now or in the future. If the ad is still up, I'm still looking.

I do have pics that I will trade with you. Your discretion as a couple will absolutely be respected. Not looking to drag this out forever in e-mails, so let's chat and if we hit it off, let's do it. Hope to hear from you."

And then something happened that never happened before. I actually got a response from a couple! It created a bit of an awkward situation because I wasn't really expecting it. Don't get me wrong, I was hoping that someone I would like would answer...I just wasn't expecting it to be that fast, and not wanting to meet that night.

On with the negotiations. The woman of the couple really likes gay male porn, both of them like bi porn, the guy was at least somewhat interested in men, and they had one specific rule: they only fuck each other. Honestly, I couldn't be more relieved to hear that. The woman was also very understanding that I would probably be nervous. At one point, her partner asked me, "You want to learn how to eat her out?" And she just told him, "Honey, he may not even like it!" That's good insight. I mean, honestly, I didn't know how I would react going into this at all. They were a great couple because they were providing precisely the kind of low-pressure situation I needed for a first time.

So I went over there and we kanoodled around among the three of us. At one point, the woman laid there and just played with herself while watching her man and me fool around with each other on the bed. He really liked his ass being played with. I was rimming him and he said, "It feels so weird with all the facial hair around there."

She yelped, "Welcome to my world!!!" It was all I could do to keep from busting up laughing.

The whole thing turned out to be pretty hot. I had a few first experiences with a woman. I fingered her. I didn't eat her out directly...but I definitely pleasured them both while he fucked her just an inch or so in front of my face. In the end, everybody got off. And at 29 years old, I got a new cherry popped after all.

Okay, now please exhale, and stop panicing. This one hetero (or semi hetero) experience has not made me straight.

I've always maintained that straight men can screw around with a guy and still be straight. Now that I've lived a similar experience, I'm even more resolute in that belief. :)

07/07/2013

It's been an interesting few months. Kinda surreal, actually. Minnesota passed Same-Sex marriage, to start on August 1st. The Defense of Marriage Act has been declared unconstitutional (so all same-sex marriages are now recognized on the Federal level as well). Exodus International, the world's largest organization of "therapists" and "mental health professionals" that worked with individuals to turn from gay to straight (i.e., ex-gay), issued a public appology for their meddlings in individuals' lives over the years and shut its doors effective immediately. And Prop 8 was overturned in California (congrats!!).

These are all things that, at one time in my life, I thought I would never see. It's incredible to watch the whole world change around you. For that change to evolve in such a short period of time is even more incredible. We all deserve to take some time and celebrate our hard work in making those changes happen. Person by person, life by life, we've touched the hearts of others and motivated them to be the change we need to desparately in this world.

Twin Cities Pride was my time to celebrate. I've written about it in years past, and it's always one of my favorite times of the year. Of course, one of my favorite parts of the whole Pride festival is the Leather Flag event, where any and all members of the leather community, no matter your age, race, gender, or level of experience, are welcome to march in the parade and carry the biggest Leather Pride Flag in the World (at least, it's the biggest one until someone proves me wrong). Here's some of this years' pics, courtesy Everett Allen Photography:

The people watching the parade always clap for us, a lot. Let's face it; it takes some amount of courage to walk down Hennepin in all of your gear/leather/rubber in front of over 150,000 spectators. But that's the definition of Pride. This flag has made the walk for many, many years. Even when I just started walking with the flag four years ago, the cheers from the crowd weren't as loud. But slowly, one by one, we're making a different and people are realizing that just like them, kinky people want to live life comfortably, safely, and happily.

Each kinky person who lives out loud and proud is a hero in my heart. But there's one hero I specifically need to mention.

I wore rubber for the big day, as usual. My business partner, Karri Plowman, was walking with the flag right in front of me, wearing leather pants and a harness he had made. I've always been one to admire Karri - for as loud and as proud as he lives his life. He's more than just a business partner, he's my confidant, friend, brother, sounding board, kinky terrorist, and we might *occasionally* hook-up. Most of all, I've always admired his level of perseverence. No matter what life hands him, onward he kinkily trudges, without hiding his work or his passions; not even from his kids. I've watched him be one of the best fathers I've ever seen over the past few years while still being transparent...but I guess that's a side of him that I see a bit more frequently than others.

As we walk down the parade route, we yell out to the spectators as we march, "Happy Pride!" and whatever else it takes to get the crowd riled up. I'm no exception (because have you ever known me to be the quiet type?). We walk and walk and yell and they applaud and people are excited...and then just past the half way point of the parade, something absolutely incredible happened.

Out the corner of my eye, I see a girl jump up out of the crowd and start to chase us down as we walked. She hopped forward, threw her arms around Karri, who hugged her back. And our amazing photographer snapped the perfect photo (minus me looking like I'm photo-bombing them):

Karri's daughter had never EVER even seen him in Leather before that moment marching down the parade route. But it doesn't matter. She's his daughter and he's her dad. She's just as proud of him as he is of her. Watching the two of them embrace, in a moment when Karri is being his uninhibited self (something he does best) was one of the most inspiring moments I've ever witnessed in my kinky life. I had to stop yelling at the crowd for the next three blocks because I couldn't stop myself from crying.

I hope this photo speaks to the people who see it. I want everyone to remember that you can be just as strong, powerful, and confident OUT of your gear as you are when you are IN it. We're going to change the world! It'll be slow, but the only way to do it is one person at a time.

If a leatherman and his daughter can embrace that, then maybe one day, the rest of us can, too.

06/08/2013

I was right. IML WAS different, but so fun in so many ways. It wasn't until after it was all over, though, that I realized the monumental accomplishment we had just finished.

The whole process was a whirlwind. We arrived on Tuesday afternoon, unloaded the truck, and started setting up our booth (which became a process that we would work on for the next 3 days until we opened on Friday). We worked together, steadily, and in the end, we had a finished product that looked extremely professional. So many visitors had told us that they remembered us from last year...of course, we just opened in December!

I got the fastest crash course ever on leathercraft. The two weeks prior to IML, we mass produced all of the harnesses we would end up selling. That was a crazy busy two weeks of 18 hour days, but we learned how to work together and accomplish a mass production, together, as a team. That is a lesson that's invaluable.

We brought all of our harnesses in the final step of production. On purpose. Saturday was the busiest day we've ever had! I was fitting harnesses to people nonstop all day long. It was so fun!

I think I'll sum up my feelings for the whole weekend with my favorite story from Saturday of IML.

We at Twin Cities Leather don't believe in selling our products in sizes "Small, Medium, or Large." People don't come in sizes. Kinky people are certainly no exception. All our harnesses are sized to fit your body, custom work, on the spot. And we can then guarantee you that you will be able to walk away from our booth or shop with a piece of gear that fits you like a glove and that will make you feel amazing.

Towards the end of the day on Saturday, an Asian bearish type guy walked in and started looking around. I finished fitting the harness I was working on, and asked, "Can I help you?"

He said he was interested in getting a harness. His eye was caught by all the custom fittings we were doing. "I've been looking all over the market all day and no one has a harness that fits me."

My heart sank for him. That's gotta be a rough feeling when you're shopping for something that you want so badly just to fit in and be yourself. But I was happy to help.

I showed him some different styles of X harnesses, bulldogs, and in a few different colors. I helped him pick out a black bulldog harness with white trim. As I tightened it down to his body, I realized how good it really looked on him. The white leather really popped against his Asian skin and darker hair/features. I think he realized it too. "Can I wrap it up for you?"

"Uh, yeah, sure..."

I smiled and took it off him. In about 10 minutes I had it riveted up and the excess cut, and put it back on him for the final fitting in the mirror. When he looked up at himself, I saw the first smile I'd seen him make.

It looked perfect on him. I was so proud we could help. But I was even prouder later that night when we saw him down in the hotel lobby, shirtless, wearing the harness....and with his chin held a little bit higher than before.

THAT'S the feeling that I long so hard to share with this community. I'm so happy to serve you all, and I'm so happy to do it with my best friends, brothers, and business partners, Karri Plowman and PupTrigger, as a team.

If you had asked me six months ago if we would be where we are now, I would have said "No". But we did it. It's huge. I can't believe we really went from Zero to IML in six months.

05/12/2013

There's two kinds of people in the leather community: those who patronize leather businesses, and those who own them.

I've lived most of my kinky life in the former of the two. I always have shopped at local businesses and leather shops whenever I can, and at the same time, I would ask myself all kinds of questions about those shops. "Why don't they carry _____?" "What's the overhead on _______?" "Can't they upgrade the storefront?" Why, why, why, why....

I've come to learn a lot of answers to many of those questions.

It's been kind of surreal saying, "I'm a business owner," or "I own Twin Cities Leather." On some level, I feel like I shouldn't. I'm 28 years old. I feel like owning a leather shop is something that the older members of the community do, but as I've already written, we couldn't just sit around and wait for someone else to pick up the responsibility.

I love it though. The days have become very long. There are days that are filled with joy, stress, cheer, frustration, and (occasionally) sheer terror. But I wouldn't trade it for anything.

Right now, we're coming up on International Mr. Leather - IML. IML has THOUSANDS (about 15-20K) leather, rubber, or kinky people from all over the world. Each of the three years I've gone, I've had an incredible time. It's kind of like kinky Christmas; it's the event that gay kinky people (mostly men) look forward to every year. It's an opportunity to shop at some retailers you never have the opportunity to visit, see friends/kinky people who you never get to otherwise meet, relax and be yourself in a comfortable environment, and enjoy the most epic of vacations in the quite epic city of Chicago. (Oh yeah, and the unending opportunities for kinky sex!)

I've reached a completely different point in my journey. I'm a different person now. No longer can I run around IML, dependent on the business owners to create the energy, excitement, and enthusiasm of the event. I AM one of those business owners now. It's a comfortable change though. I've reached a point in my kinky life where I'm pretty comfortable with the kinky person that I am. Learning is a lifelong process and the learning will never end, but how many more "milestones" will there be, you know?

Twin Cities Leather is going to have a booth at IML. This means that IML is going to be very, very different to me than it ever has been before. Rather than being able to roll out of bed at the crack of noon and wander around and look for something (or someone) to do, I'll be on a much more regimented schedule. The booth will need to be staffed every day during all the times the market is open! Less drinking. Less partying. Etc.

It's bittersweet, but I'm ready for it. It's exciting to get to work the booth and show the world the incredible talent and community we have here in Minneapolis-St. Paul. I have no doubt I'll get in all the meetings, socialization, and parties that I need to as well, but this IML is going to be like a rebirth for me in a lot of ways. I'll finally get to experience it from the other side of the looking glass.

05/06/2013

Looking back at my calendar, since March 17th, I've been to New Orleans for Dayton's Surprise B-Day party, St. Paul for NACA Northern Plains, to Detroit for a show at Wayne State University, Iowa for a show at Grinnell University, Minneapolis frequently to work at Twin Cities Leather, Rochester to work my "day" job, and right now I'm on a plane home from Seattle.

And through all these monumentous life experiences, I've failed to write. But it wasn't until this trip to Seattle that I figured out just why that is.

Browse our bondage toys, lubricants, and insertables! Read about how and why Twin Cities Leather was founded! See new and exciting upcoming events by/at the shop! Send us feedback on how we can better serve you!

03/14/2013

I happen to know two really awesome fisters (fist bottoms) in Minneapolis: GearKidMN and WillCo68. When I moved to Minnesota almost five years ago, I didn't know anyone in the state who was kinky. I quickly became friends with both of them despite the fact that I hadn't ever really thought about doing any fisting. The porn I had seen of it was kinda hot and I thought maybe one day I'd like to do that.

You know how if you let your hand get too close to a vaccum hose, it grabs hold and doesn't ever let go?

Surely enough, they taught me how to fist. First GearKid, then over the following summer, I took WillCo's graduate certificate program in Fist Topping (I'm still waiting on my diploma in the mail). It's interesting - before I met each of them, they didn't know each other that well. Now, it would seem that they are in a continual friendly battle with one another (a race to the bottom?). Occasionally they fight over my hands.

They both have buckets they keep their toys in. One night about a year ago, I was fisting GearKid after a Gear Night at the Eagle and found a billiard ball (the 3 ball) at the bottom of his toy bucket. I don't know why it attracted my attention, but I had quite a bit of fun sinking that ball into his corner pocket. Here's a favorite technique I found I liked: after he's sufficiently loosened up, put the ball in, fist him, and then spread your fingers and grab the ball once you're inside (a kick shot?).

Now, the thing that I love about the group of friends that I keep is that we all very open about our kinkiness, and we all know how to laugh about the kinks that we have. After listening to enough stories about "billiard games" with GearKid, and determined to find out on his own, WillCo surprised me with a couple of billiard balls of his own.

So I was fisting WillCo in his sling (about 3 feet off the ground). I'm wearing rubber, there's a lot of J-Lube everywhere to keep things open and loose....and I put in the pool ball. WillCo and I have a light-hearted yet intimate approach to the sex that we have. We frequently joke around and laugh with each other while we're going at it. Why would a billiard game be any exception? While he had the ball in his ass, I reached down for the bottle of J-Lube to re-wet my hands...and he laughs at something. This causes him to contract everything, and he dropped the ball.

From three feet in the air.

Onto a wood floor.

At 2:30 in the morning.

*THUNK*!!!

Since my hands were occupied by the lube bottle and lube, I couldn't react quickly enough to grab it before it rolled away. All I could do was shake my head praying it didn't wake up his downstairs neighbors.

But in my tipsy drive to play with that ball, I decide to get down on my hands and knees and crawl underneath WillCo (who's still in the sling) go to find the ball. Pressing my head to the floor, I found it underneath the radiator. I reach out to grab it and accidentally brush the plastic clothing mannequin that was leaning against the wall right there...and she starts to fall over on me and toward Willco, still laying in the sling.

I grabbed the ball and jumped up and back to press the mannequin against the wall with my back. That stopped it from falling. But in the middle of all the chaos, I had a nano-second of reflection on the fact that this is my life: Friday night, wee hours of the morning, wearing rubber, covered in sweat, lube, pre-cum, holding a dirty, sticky billiard ball and wrestling a plastic mannequin (and the feather boa she wears).

I don't think life gets much better than this.

(Side note: I haven't written much about my escapades lately because I fell into that trap of "If I'm too inappropriate, it will hurt my ability to book speaking gigs." Then I was reminded that my blog is supposed to be a truthful, honest account written by me about my journey for those who want to read it. So fuck all that. Prepare for the return of my life in electronic copy.)

It is with great sadness and heavy heart that we report the passing of our current Mr. International Rubber, Jason Lynch, on Monday February 25th, one day after his 38th birthday. Jason's partner found him unconscious when he arrived home from work. Paramedics were unable to revive him and a cause of death is not known at this time.

Jason, was just three months into his title year and was looking forward to his first international trip as MIR16, to judge the Mr. Montreal Rubber contest this weekend. He had forged a strong relationship with the Rubber Men of San Francisco and was so very happy to bring the title back to the Boston area where MIR's predecessor, the Mr. Vulcan Rubber contest began.

This comes as a huge blow to all of us and casts a pall over our international rubber family. As is our tradition, we ask that you raise a glass this weekend while you are out with your rubber and fetish family in celebration of Jason's life, all that he was able to accomplish and the fun loving nature thatpropelled him to the top of his class at MIR16.

We will be replacing our website later today with a memorial page with pictures of Jason proudly representing the International Rubber community, having fun and representing our title so well.

We extend our condolences to his partner Stephen Perry, his family, his brothers in the New England Rubbermen & The Rubbermen of San Francisco, his classmates from MIR16 and to everyone whose life he touched and impacted.

Rest In Peace Brother. You will be missed, but not forgotten."

I never knew Jason that well, but I know he touched the lives of many and will be sorely missed. I think I only barely got to shake hands with him at MIR when he won this past November. One thing about Jason DID stick in my mind during the contest. The onstage question portion was as follows: "You have been assigned the job of designing a rubber amusement park. What is the name of the park? What is the main attraction, and how does it work?"

I remember Jason's confidence as he stepped up to the microphone and answered, without hesitation,

"I would name my amusement park after my own personal mantra:

'You WISH you were

having this much fun.'"

Everything about Jason's life lived up to this mantra. He was an inspiration to everyone, myself included.

Rubbermen all over the world will be gathering this weekend to raise a glass in honor of Jason Lynch, Mr. International Rubber 16. Here in Minneapolis, please join us for a RubberBomb during Underwear Night at the Minneapolis Eagle on Saturday, 3/2. Let's meet for a commemorative drink and toast to Jason around 11pm. I think it would be respectful of his life, and then proceeding on to terrorize the boys in their underwear would make him proud. He would have wanted it that way.

12/05/2012

11/28/2012

Growing up kinky has its own challenges. I've outlined a few of them on this blog, but god, I wish I had had the It Gets Better Project around while I was growing up. It definitely would have made things a lot easier.

I generally was a pretty well behaved kid. I didn't act out a lot, and I stayed on my parents' good side. That's not to say I followed all the rules, either. Some teenagers sneak into their houses at night and have to worry about their parents catching them while they're still drunk from the party they had just come from. Me? I was sneaking into the house so they wouldn't catch me with rope burn all over my arms or tape residue on my face.

I was crafty. They never caught me. No joke.

Due to all the secrets I've had in my life, I've never really felt all that close to my parents. There's too much they don't want to hear about. I mean, they've met my partner a few times, but every time I bring up the word "marriage", they let the topic die or quickly change the subject. I know they don't support same-sex marriage. Given my mother's chosen brand of Christian faith, I'm sure she never will.

When I came out to them in high school, it didn't go over well. Ten years later, we still don't see eye to eye on the subject. But now I'm faced with a bigger problem.

Thanks to all of you out there, my new career as a public speaker and sex educator is starting to gain some traction. I'm working on multiple contracts for shows in the Spring, I'm opening a leather shop on Saturday, and this website gets about 3,000 visitors per month from every inhabited continent on the planet (including some extremely dedicated readers from Australia - thanks boys!). I just got off the road after traveling for two months to try to promote myself. Hell, one of my upcoming shows is even going to be in Missouri.

This is too big of a part of my life. I can't hide this anymore.

I feel so fucking immature writing this all in the first place. I'm 28 goddamn years old. Why am I so afraid to tell this all to my parents? They're adults. I'm an adult. Can't we just all be adults about it? I'm in St. Louis right now. I sat down to dinner with them. I was as nervous as I've ever been in my life. I didn't accomplish a thing all day and I've been nauseated and shaking over what's about to happen. Finally, I let them finish eating and then I just went ahead and said it.

I told them about the shop I was opening, my blog, my career as a public speaker, and I broached the subject matter of what I discuss. I explained to them that alternative lifetsyles (and yes, they understood what that meant) were important to me. I told them that I know they didn't want to know all this. I know they'd just like to go on pretending it doesn't happen, and I know they'll never voluntarily talk about it with me.

When my parents found out I was gay, all they wanted to do was talk (i.e. yell) about it; in twenty eight years, I've never EVER seen my mother in a state of speechlessness. Until tonight.

She finally spoke with dread and pain in her voice. This isn't what she expected of her son. But she quietly admitted it was a reality she had to accept. She's stuck with it. Translation: I would change all of this if I could. Don't worry mom, the feeling is mutual. I'd have parents that don't just tolerate me, but accept and love me. That said, I know this would be a tough day for even the most progressive of parents.

My relationship with my parents will never be the same. No longer can I grasp at the straw that I'll ever have a strong, loving, open relationship with them. That ship is SAILED. I've pretty much sealed the deal on ever being able to be close to them again. They wish they didn't know. They want a different son. But they're going to take the one they have because...well, they're stuck with me. And they're not happy about it. In fact, they're currently feeling personally hurt that they've raised a human being who turned out this way. I doubt it's going to get any better. If, in ten years, my parents' can't come to terms with me being gay, they're NEVER going to be able to come to terms with this.

The hardest thing I've ever done is break my parents' hearts. I know I shouldn't care, because we're adults, and I shouldn't need them. But damnit...they're my parents. I'm really hurt by the rejection, but I knew it was coming. I was ready for it. I've made my peace, and I do NOT have their blessing. It's time for me to move on.

11/01/2012

The adventure I'm headed on now is to Chicago for Mr. International Rubber 16. This is one of my favorite events every year, and I'm super excited to be a part of it for the fifth time around.

Details on the contest can be found here. Special thanks to the Chicago Rubbermen for working so hard to make this event a huge success! I know the kink education sessions are going to be pretty interesting.

Other places you can find me: I will be in the demo pit on Friday at 1pm, doing a demonstration on Breath Control. I will also be Live Blogging for Leatherati.com from the contest floor as well as the cocktail parties and other events.

So the best places to catch up on all the details would be on my Twitter, my Facebook, or on Leatherati Live! See you all in cyberspace, or else at The Center on Halstead!

10/02/2012

NACA South was excellent. Huge, huge thank yous to all the schools who said Hi and took information from me. I know I'll be contacting you soon! Oh yeah, and if you took your picture with me, please, e-mail it to me. I didn't get nearly enough pictures this time around. As I write this, I'm currently up in the sky on Delta, transferring through ATL to DFW for NACA Central. No rest for the wicked...

Speaking of wicked, let's move on to the meat of this post. Yes, I hooked up in my spare time. Shocking, I know. But here's the super shocking part of it: I hooked up with a straight guy.

Yeah, yeah, yeah, I know you're all moaning and groaning as you read this saying, "Well then he's not really straight now is he?" Hear me out for a second. Take a step back a moment and imagine a world where people are not just GAY or STRAIGHT, but rather, sexuality is fluid. I could bend your ear for a while about what's physiological vs. sociological regarding sexuality, but I'll save that post for another time.

I met this guy on Recon. His profile was pretty straight forward, short, and to the point. He was looking for a rope dom to tie him up, do some sensory deprivation, and edge him. He's in his 20s, and he's damn cute. Twist my fucking arm, why don't you.

He comes over to my hotel, and decides to drop the bomb then. He's straight.

Now, I'm not heterophobic or anything. I mean, people can live their lives anyway they want, even if I don't agree with it as a healthiest of lifestyles. I will admit, however, that my heart sunk into a pit in my stomach only because of previous experiences/encounters I've had with other guys who decided to call themselves "straight". I've had three or four of these hook ups with other "straight" guys who are just looking to get tied up and played with, but they always have a tendency to PANIC the moment they realize they have no control over the fact that a man is touching their junk. Each time I've done this, the scenes have always ended disasterously because the men who wanted to do it weren't confident enough to cope with getting a handjob from another man. So as the boy was telling me about all his straightness, my knee jerk reaction was to instantly find an excuse to get him out of my hotel room. STAT.

What's that old saying? Never judge a book by its cover?

The boy went on to explain why he felt comfortable hitting me up. Yes, he was straight, but he was also one of those extremely sexually active straight boys. He's done straight porn in the past, multiple times. He's had a LOT of really straight sex, and he's had a LOT of BDSM sex with women, always as the Dom/Top. He's had three ways and four ways and gang bangs with women while other men are present. The point I'm trying to make is that he's confident enough in his sexuality through this repeated exposure over time to not feel at all threatened by another man's sexuality during a scene.

So I asked him, with all of that experience, YEARS of it, what could he possibly learn or get from me?

There's where the intersection is. He is a rope bondage fanatic, and like myself, he's been fantasizing about it since he was a kid. There's never been a time in his life where any kind of kidnap, rope, restraint, gag, sensory deprivation scene was NOT a turn on to him. Even so, after eight years of domming women in BDSM scenes, he said that whenever he has attempted to submit to women, he can't take them seriously. For it to feel real to him, it would need to really be done by someone who could overtake him. By a man.

That's where the magic was; that "aha" moment. There's a predominant intersection between this gay kinkster and that straight kinkster. He's not interested in men, or anal sex, or anything to do with my dick. He'd never been forced to keep his hands off his dick. No one's ever prevented him from jerking off. Meanwhile, that's one of my favorite things to do to boys as a dom; bondage, gag, blindfold, and edge them until they're begging me to PLEASE let them get off! I don't need to fuck him or make him suck my cock to have a good time. When I see/hear him trying to beg me through the restraints I've put him and watch him squirm in whatever position it is, I won't have any trouble blowing a load.

The two of us have a combined 18 years of experience in BDSM in our respective communities. I don't think this picture perfect overlap could have worked out if there had been any less experience between us.

I tied him down, blindfolded him, muzzled him, and I got off on tormenting him. Once he was a horny dripping begging mess, I figured he had earned his reward. I untied him and we talked for a little while, and he walked out of my hotel no more a homosexual than he was when he first walked in. And for the first time in my kinky life, I've been able to find an awesome common ground with the creature which I never thought I could relate to: the straight male human.

09/27/2012

So I haven't been blogging much lately, and that's mostly been on purpose. I've really been working on preparation for the upcoming round of NACA conventions that I'm going to! I've been working on my marketing strategies and other projects to "up my game" for you all.

And it's all finally here!

Currently, I'm in Winston-Salem, NC for NACA South and will be here until October 2nd. From there:

So as you can see, with the crazy busy schedule I haven't had much time to write! I'm sure I'll be blogging about my adventures from the road though, so stay tuned for more. If you're in or near any of these cities, let me know and I'd love to say HI, or stop and see me at any of these events!

08/26/2012

(This blog is all about honesty, and true to that spirit, I'm going to tell this story as it happened. I know I'm not perfect so PLEASE don't jump down my throat for jumping to inappropriate conclusions. This post is an admission of guilt. Thank you.)

Last night was the first time I've ever stepped foot into Ground Zero Nightclub. It's the "pansexual" BDSM bar, dance club, and demo pit. I've lived in Minnesota for four years now and I've never been! It was just time to start a new adventure.

So I harrassed as many of my friends via text message as I could at the last second, pulled on my rubber chaps, and drove over there. Two problems arise: 1)The parking situation is terrible, so I had to walk the gauntlet with my ass hanging out across 4th Ave to get to the bar, and 2)Ground Zero is situated right betwen two other vanilla straight bars and a restaurant. So once I walked across the street, I then had to dive into a sea of vanilla people wearing cotton to get up to the door! *facepaw*

Ground Zero is a "pansexual" bar. I don't know what that means to you all as readers from other parts of the country and world, but in Minnesota? "Pansexual" means "straight men and women, oh yeah, and women who do it with women because that's hot". Gay men have their own leather/BDSM community - hell, we have our own bar. It's not surprising I felt kind of awkward going in there, but I suppose it's a nice gesture by the management to call the place "pansexual".

The bar is divided up into several different areas; there's a side bar, a dance floor, and then the performance space where there was a Pro-Domme (Mistress Mara) working over volunteers. There's a whole bunch of chairs set up in front of the stage for people to watch the various acts. So I'm puttering around a bit with my friends having a few drinks, watching the Domme perform on her subs. Most of them are women. Until the 2nd to last one.

Up walks to stage this buff guy with huge muscles, tanned skin, long hair, washboard abs, and a huge upside down triangle tattoo across his shoulders. He tips the Domme as his friends make fun of him (and awful tragedy which shouldn't be tolerated) and proceeds to get cuffed to the restraints hanging from the ceiling! Mistress Mara flogs him a few times and then scratches him some and does something else with an ice cube....

....and in my head, I fell into the slippery slope of discompassion. What I SHOULD have thought to myself was "Maybe it's his first time!" "Maybe he needs her to go light." "Maybe he injured himself already today!" There are any number of infinite possibilities that could explain why this Domme wasn't lashing out on those buldging muscles with every last ounce of her strength. All of them are probably legitamate too. But as I stood there watching, the rum in my drink took over my thoughts. My mind darted around all theother timesI've been flogged. The only logical conclusion my tipsy mind could come to was simply that the guy was a PUSSY. I can do better than that.

Move over, Fabio.

I marched up to that stage and asked Mistress Mara what her rates were. I tipped her appropriately (side note: gay kinksters don't tip in our community. I THINK I tipped her appropriately, but I've never had to do that before. Hope she doesn't hate me now) and asked her, "Can you flog a gay-boy, Mistress?"

"Hell yes! How hard can you take it?"

I gritted my teeth, half expecting to regret saying it but also determined to show Fabio what a gay boy can take. "I've been flogged until I've bled before."

Mistress Mara just SMILED and secured my wrists to the shackles in the ceiling.

Being that it was the end of the night, it was a pretty fast flogging. But that doesn't mean she went light on me. It was tough to remember to yell "Thank you MISTRESS" as opposed to my usual "Thank you SIR" or "Thank you MASTER". It hurt, but like I said, I was determined to demonstrate what this gay boy is made of.

At a certain point I felt Mistress Mara slap a couple strips of duct tape against my back. "Just a little blood! No worries!" she said.

I didn't break. I didn't care. That wasn't the point. Before I even knew it it was over. I said thank you to Mistress, and walked out of the bar, euphoric, and proud.

This morning I wake up, look in the mirror, and realized what happened last night. I let my ego overtake the rational components of my brain, and I thusly paid the price. By getting hit. By. A. Girl.

07/23/2012

I'm home from another amazing weekend in Chicago. Thanks to ClinkClink for letting me crash with him for the weekend.

It was nice to see contestants from other states! There was one from Iowa, Ohio, and one from Chicago, of course. Our new Mr. Midwest Rubber is none other than Collin Wood! He's really pumped about the new title, and I'm sure he'll represent us well.

I was humbled to be a judge for the contest. Special thanks go out to Touche Bar for hosting the event and having me in as a judge! And a huge shout out to Jessie from Iowa and Nicoli from Chicago; you guys rock. The decisions weren't easy at all! I know that both of you are going to go on and make some great changes in your home communities.

07/03/2012

I had the honor of assisting Dan Savage in answering a kinky question on his weekly Savage Podcast! See how I helped answer a question for a straight, kinky girl who wanted to know how to get over the kink-shame she's felt for years!

06/30/2012

A couple days after IML, I put up a pretty cryptic post about jumping over a cliff. Coupled with a really awesome Pride weekend, I should probably explain myself.

I love being a nurse, and I don't think I'll ever stop. But I've realized that I'm never going to feel more alive and love my work more than I do when I'm doing a speech, at an event, or working for the community in one capacity or another.

The shop formerly known as Cockpit Minneapolis has closed. It breifly transitioned to a store called "Gear for Men", but that didn't last. It's now completely closed. Minneapolis/St. Paul has no leather shop at this time at all. There's nowhere for anyone to go to buy any kinky goods in this city. Definitely not hands on.

Sitting in the car that night, Trigger and I realized that we can't just wait around for someone else to do all the work for us. If there's going to be a community in this city, anchored in businesses opened and run by people who are members of that community and who truly care what happens....well, you probably see where I'm going with this.

I don't care if I fail. I'm going to put my all in this, along with PupTrigger and Karri Plowman. It's scary, it's a world I've never been a part of, but it's something I have to do.

I don't ever want to look back on 27 and think, "I wish I had tried." Even if I fail, at least I gave it my all and I tried.

That said, we can only succeed with YOU and YOUR HELP!

Please visit our new online site: www.TwinCitiesLeather.com. Join the mailing list, and keep up with us on our journey to open a new leather, rubber, fetish, and kink shop in Minneapolis/St. Paul! We're starting out with an online presence for now, but we're hoping to be in a bricks and moarter store by the end of 2012.

Check out the website for more details, but the basics are that the shop will be a co-op of the designers, artists, and builders we already have here in the Twin Cities. There's just too much creativity to let it all go unnoticed.

Check it out! And thank you in advance for all your support! Custom made harnesses are already available. E-mail Karri to make an appointment for a fitting today!

05/31/2012

Well, another IML has come and gone. Today is Thursday and I finally feel ready to write about it. Yes, I returned to Minnesota on Tuesday. It's been 36 hours and I'm finally ready to write about it.

The event was everything it has ever been to me the previous two times I've been there. It was fun, thrilling, intoxicating, satisfying, depressing, painful, and chaotic. But most of all, it was an eye-opening experience just as it usually is.

Despite the weekend being one big leather/sex fest with a random beauty pagent/contest thrown into the works, I have learned something major about myself every year I've gone and subjected myself to the torment that is IML. I'm pretty sure the weekend was not set out to be an educational session at a university. It never was. But the amount of growth that has occurred in my personal journey year after year has been astounding.

But to keep myself from getting too deep, I'll stop to interject that I also had lots and lots of kinky sex. ;)

It's an exhausting experience. I don't even know how it managed to happen, but I woke up by 10am each day we were there. I spent a decent amount of time working for Leatherati, which is something I never mind doing. I know that people are reading the posts on Leatherati Live so that gives me great motivation to keep going. I know that not everyone can be there with us.

Exhausting. By the time Tuesday morning arrives, the last thing I want to do is pack up, clean, or load the car. This year, there were twelve guys staying in our suite so we had quite a bit of packing and cleaning to do. We all go through each and every piece of gear laying around in the suite and make sure it all ends up in the right bag. We listen to music and recap the weekend while we do this, together, slowly packing away another new chapter in each of our lives. Once the entire room is clean and packed, we take one final moment to pour one last drink (usually mimosas) and toast to our brotherhood and another successful weekend at IML together.

We ate lunch, and then comes the long 6 hour drive back to Minnesota. That drive can be kind of relaxing in a lot of ways. We discuss what we liked, what we didn't like, ways we could change things for next year, and of course, what we learned.

Pup Trigger, my best friend and eternal partner in crime, has driven with me every year so far. This is good for two reasons: one, we cram so much gear into my Tahoe that we almost need a crowbar to fit it all in, and two, the conversation leads us to realize what we learned.

We dropped off the two guys who rode down along with us at around 9:30 or 10 at night. It's quiet in the car. It's just me and my brother and the silence and the moonlight and our exhausted bodies. The car was stopped. It's time to get out and unpack or something...but neither one of us could. We sat there. Frozen. Opening the car door and getting out would mean it's all over for another year, and neither one of us wanted to let that go.

We both agreed that this IML was one in which we each made incredible discoveries about leather, about kink, about contests, and about ourselves. But where are we now?

I told him that I felt like we were at a point in life where we were standing at the edge of a cliff. Turning back isn't an option now. We can only move forward; we have to find a way to get across the chasm and continue the journey on the other side. The distance between the cliffs is just barely barely close enough so that a huge jump across has a probability of success, but includes the possibility of failure. But the rock face is also scalable.

So what are the options at this point? Well, one option is to climb down the side of the cliff, walk across the bottom of the chasm, and find a way to scale up the other side. The other option, of course, is to get a running start, jump hard, and pray that you get close enough to the other side to grab on for dear life and pull yourself up.

We're on the edge of something big here in Minnesota. There's an opportunity before us at this time which may never present itself again. Therein lies the most important lesson of IML this year; this is our decision. No one is ever going to make it for us. If we take the time to scale the rock face, by the time we get to the other side, it will be too late.

No more excuses. We'll figure it all out. The decision is already made. We both know it. And to get the boost that we need, we're going to look to the same place we always have when we need it.

I look across to my brother, and yes, I do it with a tear in my eye. "Let's jump," I said. "Together."

We're on to something big here. More details soon. Thank you to everyone for an amazing IML.

05/21/2012

When I was in the 7th grade, my family got a dial-up internet connection to our home PC. I was pretty tech savvy as a kid and until college, I always envisioned myself in some sort of computer career. I built my own PC when I was 13 years old. Just for fun. Dammit, I was a nerd. It wasn't long after we got that dial up connection that I figured out how to manipulate/delete browsing histories from Internet Explorer.

I spent a little bit (okay, a lot of time) looking around at different kink and bondage websites on-line over the years. Most of them didn't appeal to me; my fetish is surprisingly specific. I remember the early days of CapturedGuys and Bound&Gagged. Those were probably two of my favorites. What I also remember, however, is tinkering around on some sites that sold porn videos. Back in those days, the thought of downloading a whole movie via a dial up connection was unfathomable; I spent my time just reading the descriptions and looking over the covers of the boxes.

Very few of these professional films actually appealed to me. I was looking for bondage and kidnappings, being done by guys with whom I could associate myself. What I found was slings, whips, older guys with lots of body hair and beards and mustaches wearing harnesses, and lots and lots of fucking. I found myself reviewing lots of vintage porn which lead me to believe that this is what "leather" meant. I thought that that meant I didn't belong then, and probably would never belong (I really didn't have much taste for that much body hair or all that crazy leather equipment).

This experience led me to believe that in order to have the kinky experiences I wanted, one of two things had to happen; Either I would need to modify my body to look like all those other people, or else once I jumped in and started, I would eventually grow up to become/look just like one of them. Flaming red hair and all. It isn't something I wanted to become. So you see, I never felt alone because I was kinky. My loneliness came from just being different and not wanting to conform to the stereotype which I had learned.

Was this an unrealistic belief for a 13-18 year old who didn't know any better? Particularly, one in St. Louis, where face-to-face education is slim? Particularly for youth?

These days, I kinda feel ashamed of the stereotype I labeled the leathermen with at that point in my life. It's a stereotype that prevented me from exploring the community at large for many years, until I was out of college for some time, in fact. It was a rather judgemental period of my life, and now I regret it. You see, it wasn't just that I didn't want to become one of them. I forgot they were people. And for a long time, I didn't even want to have anything to do with them.

Then, a few years ago, it donned upon me; I'm giving them the precise treatment they were providing to me. I didn't like that treatment at all. I felt like I was just being labeled as "not one of us" by them and rather dehumanized. I don't even remember what the moment was that caused it, but it was like someone just set a mirror in front of me to stare into for a while. I realized that I can't ever be accepted into this community if I myself remember that those leathermen are actually people too.

I'm really glad I realized that.

I'm still realizing how much I have to learn, though. Saturday night was "Studio 54" night at The Saloon. They went above and beyond to retrofit the bar to a classic 70s style, even going to far as to paint walls, put the arcade games into storage, and bring in a water-bed and beanbags for the lounge area. Dressing up in all 70s fashion/style got you in for no cover charge. And one final nail in the coffin: they openly asked for the city's kinksters to dress in their best 70s leather look. *sigh* Twist my arm a little harder, why don't you?

So I reached back through my brain on Saturday trying to think of the style and fashion from all those porn video covers and I did my very best to recreate it. When I saw the end result, I realized how little I really know about vintage leather. I looked at myself in the mirror, and the image I saw prompted me to coin a new term:

Decade confusion (noun) - mistaking a pop-culture reference from one distinct decade for another. Example: In a sad case of decade confusion, my attempt at a 70s leather look ended up more like either 80s punk-rock, or The Terminator.

05/04/2012

Something big is happening this month. Well, actually, it happened a few weeks ago, but what's the difference of a few weeks?

10 years ago, around this time, I started exploring kink with someone else. 10 years ago. TEN. The funny thing is, I didn't even think about it until someone asked me, via Recon, how long I've been doing all this and what kind of experience I had. I said I've been doing bondage, both dom and sub, since I was seventeen years old. That automatic math that happened in my head stood out to me. Wow. Not only is it a nice, round number, but it's a long damn time. 10 years. I'm only 27 now, but it's kinda making me feel like an old man. Like someone needs to order me a walker so I can get around at IML in a few weeks.

Sure, my first experiences when I was seventeen probably weren't all that thrilling...but in my mind they were an amazing beginning to a part of my life that had been screaming to be let free. I'm sure the scenes are probably hotter in my memories now than they really were at the time. Reminiscing over the days of being a skinny, dorky, angsty teenager in high school and thinking of those first times is...humbling. I know I'm lucky, because it hadn't been long since I even came out to anyone in the first place. I was new gay, but I was also new kink.

I remember being seventeen, and finally getting over myself and the fact that I was gay. I didn't know how to tell anyone. I kept the secret to myself. Then one day, after school during drama rehearsal, there was this really cute boy, a couple classes behind me, who was hanging out with some friends of mine in the greenroom. There was a conversation leading up to what he said to me, but I don't remember what those words were. All I remembered was him leaning in and whispering kind of quietly into my right ear, "...becasue I'm gay."

I promptly forgot everything that was said before or after that, and I probably looked like a crazy person sitting there, letting that sink in. My exposure to other gay men or gay culture at that point had been completely limited to gay porn, and mostly of the kink/bondage variety. The only thing I knew about gay men was that they were all older than me and I was going to grow up to be pretty fugly. Imagine my surprise to find another boy, my age, (and attractive!) was also gay. What? I thought I was alone!

I was dumbfounded.

I had a car at this point. I drove home that night and just thought. I thought I was alone. I wasn't. Maybe I could tell this kid that he's not alone too.

Long story short and cutting out a lot of drama, I wrote him some notes during a production in the theatre (I was running lights for the Fine Arts Festival). I was so nervous to hand them to him after writing them; my heart was pounding. We never got a chance to talk that night. Or for the rest of the weekend since I had to work my part time job at the pizza place. But after rehearsal on Monday for another show we were in, I drove him and a few of my other friends home in my old Pontiac 6000. I made sure to make him the last stop.

As I dropped my last friend off at her house, it was just me and him in the car. My heart was pounding. He was in the back seat directly behind me. I stared directly at the steering wheel, frozen with fear, anger, and lust all at the same time. Staring directly at the steering wheel, I finally managed to say, ".......can we go somewhere and talk?"

"....sure," he said. I drove us out of the subdivision and stopped the car in a parking lot of a Catholic church.

He moved to the front seat. I just let it all out. We talked for about two and a half hours. I told him exactly how I felt and what I was thinking and that I was gay and what it all meant. I asked him about himself and what he'd been through, and what about his family and what about school and what about the future and what about what about what about.......

.....and what do we do now?

I gulped, and without even knowing what I was doing, I said, ".......I'd really, really like to kiss you right now." I looked up, and made eye contact with him for the first time in our whole conversation. He brushed his hair out of his face and smiled at me. He reached across the seat, took my hand, and we both leaned in....

The kiss that we shared was pretty fucking magical.

It had gotten dark by that point. We kissed for a little while, and explored each other and this secret we shared together. We were so attracted to each other....fine, I'll just admit it. My first blowjob ever was there, in the front seat of my sage-green Pontiac 6000 parked in the lot of a Catholic church.

I remember gripping the seat of the car, digging my fingers into the fabric while he was sucking my dick, and ever-so brefily the thought crossed my mind.......I wonder if he'd like to be tied up?

To be continued........

(And by the way, that boy is just as cute now as he was 10 years ago....)

04/29/2012

I had a great show at Northern Illinois University on Thursday evening. Thank you so much to Prism, Marc Romero, and everyone else who worked so hard to make the event a success! The audience was so interested and asked a lot of really great questions. It was also really great to get to pick the brain of Dr. Brad Sagarin, who with his research lab, is working on more projects in BDSM and kinky sex. Incredible time!

Pup Trigger had scheduled a trip to Chicago for us this weekend to see Kai and Shivian get hand-fasted (married). I haven't been down here since MIR. It's been a very relaxing get away! I got in on Friday afternoon and used my free time to visit the Leather Archives and Museum for my very first time. Seeing some of the original, handpainted artwork, the old guard vests, patches, and colors, the historical displays was very moving. The paintings, specifically, sent chills down my spine. It's a look into a world that I'm a part of today, but so disconnected with, from a time long before I was alive.

That night we went to Steamworks. I'd never been there before. By the time my Minneapolitain counterparts arrived from the north, we were getting there pretty late. We made the most of our time anyway, though. GearKidMN, Trigger, and myself decided to put on a floorshow. GearKid and I had done it before, but it was especially fun to have Trigger a part of it as well. Man, can GearKid take a fist...and all the other guys standing around loved watching as well ;)

Yesterday was a loooooong day, but a good kind of long day. Kai and Shivian were getting hand-fasted (married)! It was an awesome day. I've been to a large number of weddings in my day, but I've never before been to a kink wedding. The grooms both wore kinky gear and many of the guests were wearing their best latex or leather. However, they both also invited their regular "vanilla" families, making it a very interesting mix of people. Regardless, it was an incredible day! Congratulations to the two very happy grooms, and best of luck in life, leather, and your pursuit of happiness.

Slept in today from a long night of festivities. Leaving for Minnesota tomorrow, so we'll see what kind of trouble I can cause with the rest of my day today....

03/09/2012

There's been this battle going on over on Leatherati Voices. Someone named John D Wheal wrote a book about leather life as it was in the 1940s and 1950s. Read Guy Baldwin's or Jeffery Payne's review of the book. And be sure to read John D Wheal's rebuttal. For those of you who don't know him, Guy Baldwin and Jeffery Payne are former International Mr. Leathers and very well respected members of the leather community. At least, as far as I've been told.

The debate has been fascinating to follow, although I've been somewhat at a loss for words on what to say about the issue. I don't know John Wheal, Guy Baldwin, or Jeffrey Payne personally. I've never met any of them. I don't know who's right or who's wrong about anything related to this book at all. Did leather "councils" exist? Were there rules? What was protocol really like? Who's a rubber boy to believe anyway? And does it even make any difference now?

While I've been pondering all of this, I've also been trudging along with my life. Besides work at the hospital, I've spent a good amount of time in Minneapolis, being a big part of the Mr. and Ms. Twin Cities Leather contests. I was a judge this year. It was an interesting perspective on the whole process. The contestants gave it their all, and I could tell. We were able to sash our very first Ms. Twin Cities Leather, SJ. She's well connected and has high hopes for the leather scene in Minneapolis. Our winner of the Mr. Twin Cities Leather contest is Jared. This was the controversial one we picked. He's new to the Twin Cities, but moreover, he's heterosexual. This has caused a little bit of uproar from the community, but then again, maybe I just haven't heard the full extent of it between working and being out of town.

Whatever the case is, I'm willing to take any amount of heat that anyone wants to dish out. Seriously. If anyone has a problem with a straight man being Mr. TCL, then you should take it out on me. Not him. Don't forget that he was chosen to fill this role by a group of five people, myself included. We didn't have to pick him, yet we did. So if you have something to say, let's hear it. This wasn't a decision that I, or the entire judges panel came to lightly. It'll probably be something I'll be remembered for.

Will it? Is this the history I'm writing?

Later that week, I went out to Denver to spend an amazing weekend with a group of really awesome guys. It was the first time in my life I'd ever been to Denver. I didn't really see a whole lot of it, but then again, we weren't exactly there to enjoy the scenery, either. This was a private party...and it was nice to see the boys from Florida and my Denver crew again and spend some quality time with my kink brothers/family. For anyone who's followed this blog, you know that "leather family" isn't a term that I've used much here. It's never felt right to me, but then again, maybe it's just a word I never really understood.

The weekend in Denver was an absolute blast. It almost felt like IML. We kept the energy high, I got to dom AND sub and do some really awesome scenes on both sides. The play was essentially non-stop, but for the times we went out to eat and the few hours we slept. Good times were had by all, but the thing that I'll remember most is the sense of family that we developed and shared during those four long days we all spent together. A family I couldn't ever imagine having, but now so grateful for.

Sitting at dinner with everyone, I looked down the table of 25 and thought to myself - is this how the old guard came together and became a family? Is the realization that I'm having now any different than the ones they had back then? Did they share meals like this too? How will I ever know? I probably never will.

And what about me? How will I be remembered? Fifty or sixty years from now, provided the world still exists, how is MY generation of kink going to be interpreted? Are we going to be thought of as the rebels? The sex fiends? Are people going to marvel at the LACK of technology that we had available to us? Are people going to wonder how we found one another? Or are people going to assume we had our own councils making those decisions for us? Then again, people might think of my generation as a lousy Recon hookup, with nothing more to show for it than a used condom in the trash can.

I know this blog isn't going to last forever and ever and ever. I expect that one day, I'm going to run out of steam, or else people are going to stop listening to what I have to say. But unless I write enough that the Leather Archives & Museum will find it worthy of permanent preservation and archival as a historical text, there's a good chance that this community and I will become the new "old guard" that people are left to only wonder about. But what do I really want left for future generations to remember about us?

I guess I would want people to know that judging Mr. Twin Cities Leather was an amazing experience. It was one I'm honored to have been selected to be a part of at just age 27, and I'm happy that the winner is heterosexual. How can we ask straight people to embrace our homosexual communities if we don't accept and support them as well? And yes, I could go on and write plenty of porn about the scenes I had in Denver, like the kidnapping when the Floridanians arrived or the double mummification or the 90 minute suspension in a zentai that I went through or any other number of scenes. All of these milestones in my life are building me into the kinkster I am today, but I see something more important beneath the surface.

We won't ever know what the FIRST guard of leather was really like; all I can say is that I know that I'm very grateful for them and whatever it was they did. I wouldn't be here today without the dreams they had. Today, in our times of chaos and uncertainty, we press on together in creating our own history. As a family. Now. In the Twin Cities, Denver, Florida, at a dinner table, in a dungeon, at a party, and in a parade.

The thing that I want remembered most can't ever be put in an archive or a museum. In my eyes, the most valuable part of my generation of leather is the unending feeling of optimism - the faith that future generations are going to have even stronger community bonds than ours because of the history we're making today.

02/12/2012

Well, MBLGTACC was amazing as usual. Every year I've been to this conference, I've wondered why I'm still going, especially since the conference is not particularly kink-geared. This year I had a more legitamate purpose - I attended as a business professional. I did a couple workshops to give people a sample of what my speeches are all about, and I also advertized at my booth for one loooooooooooong day at the Exhibitor Fair from 10am-6pm on Saturday. Seriously. 8 hours, and the traffic was non-stop!

I spoke to more students, activists, faculty, advisers and staff members than I can even count. Thank you all so much for your support and enthusiasm, for stopping by my booth, for being friendly, for asking questions, and for being courageous enough to speak to a boy in rubber. I was kind of nervous about the Exhibitor Fair, because from previous conferences, I could never remember a speaker renting a table out to try to book gigs. But I can't even count the number of students and schools who came by, asking me about my prices and my available dates! It was almost overwhelming. While at the table, I also told people about the workshop I was presenting on Sunday morning, as a preview or sample of what I can do at their schools if booked. I'm proud to say that the classroom my session was in was completely full with people sitting on the floor, but they also had to shut the doors to more attendees because it was creating a fire hazzard. :(

And by the way, for those of you who took pictures of/with me, please e-mail them to me.

I really, really love this conference. The energy, enthusiasm, and optimism of college students is envigorating to me. Traveling down this road toward becoming a public speaker hasn't been easy. Busy work schedules, late nights, time away from my Minneapolis crew, and the expenses all add up. I've missed two MPLS Eagle Gear Nights in a row now! ERGH!

But going to this conference is refreshing, to say the least. I have a renewed sense of determination to press on. This morning, I presented a 90 minute workshop on "Debunking Myths about BDSM", and this afternoon, here's an e-mail I received (posted with author's permission):

"Hey!

It's **********, the kid with the pink shirt who wouldn’t shut up during your Sunday morning session. I just wanted to say again how inspiring your workshop was. I’ve had some limited kink experience, but nothing more than a couple isolated scenes with random people from recon, and certainly nothing like some of what you described in the workshop and on your blog (yes, I’ve been creeping). Initially your workshop made me a little uncomfortable, and I spent the better part of the bus ride back to my college thinking about why. I came to the conclusion that despite how out, proud and self-affirming I’d like to think myself, I really do feel ashamed about that part of my sexuality. Seeing a presentation discuss so openly what for me was such an intensely personal and private topic (that more or less lives on the internet in my world) felt like a challenge to my own internalized oppression. I’ve unknowingly been telling myself that this part of me was rightly a dirty secret that shouldn’t leave the realm of Recon; if people knew about this part of my sexual expression, how could I be a role model for my peers? I can’t believe I’m writing this, but I actually have been thinking myself a pervert because of these desires.

Anyway, I could bitch and moan about myself for pages, but I guess I just wanted to say that the work you’re doing is really important and that your presence at an otherwise “vanilla” conference was affirming and validating in such a meaningful way for anyone with a dirty secret. It’s so easy to dismiss stigma against kink as trivial, but for the people affected by it I think it’s a lot more oppressive than anyone really realizes. Your passion in the workshop was nothing less than inspiring, and I wish I could find community for this part of my life like you have. So I guess now comes the awkward ending to an awkward email. Thanks so much for your workshop and your openness."

This is why it's important for kinky people to be present as activists everywhere, not just in kinky forums. This is why it's important for us to challenge what "sexual orientation" really is. This is why it's important for us to be outspoken about the lives we lead and the dreams that we share. This is why conferences like MBLGTACC are so, so important.

This is why we need to always remember to love ourselves, and to pass that feeling on to others.